Christine D'Angel
by Evalynn Hansen
Summary: Christine has suffered major trauma that has literally left her scarred for life. What will happen when she meets the one person who could understand her with a catch?... He needs to help her get back home to the present.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Here's something rolling around in my head that I decided to put down. Let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera. All made up characters are mine.

Chapter 1

 ** _Paris, April 2017_**

 _Fire. All around me I could feel flames licking at my face and clothes. In the distance I heard screaming. A dark form came towards me through the smoke as I_ _blacked out._

* * *

I tied the black ribbon to keep my half mask in place. Ironically, my favorite story had always been Leroux's Phantom of the Opera. Now I wore a porcelain half mask like my favorite Opera Ghost's with a slightly feminine twist. It had been almost five months since the accident that left the right side of my face hopelessly mangled.

I sighed as there was a knock on the front door.

"Coming!"

Glancing in the mirror once more to make sure the right side of my face was completely covered, I hurried to let my guest inside.

"Hey, Meg," I greeted my friend.

"Hi, Christine," she replied.

At one point, we would laugh over the reference our Phantom loving parents made when they named us. But ever since the accident, there hadn't been much laughter or smiling for that matter. We even looked like our namesakes. At least, until the accident made me more like the Phantom than his love.

"Christine, you don't have to wear that around me. I don't care if that car crash ruined your face."

I shook my head. I couldn't part with the porcelain mask that had become part of my everyday wear. The only time I ever dared remove it was to sleep or wash, otherwise it remained on my face.

"We are going out, Meg. Even though you may not care, others might. It is better this way."

With a huff, Meg turned and opened the door.

"Let's get going, then."

I followed her out, donning a black cloak and locking my door as we went. We hurried through the busy Paris streets toward the massive Opera House a block away. There were benefits to living so close to work. Once we arrived, Meg hurried off to get ready with the other members in the corp de ballet.

Pulling the cloak's hood further over my face, I hurried in the opposite direction. While I had used to be a chorus girl, I now worked as a maid. I figured since the accident, stage life wasn't a good idea any more. As a maid, a lot less questions were asked about my mask.

* * *

I sat down with a sigh. I had finished my chores early and now had a bit of free time to relax. I was now located in Box 5, the door locked behind me. I found that spending time in the box helped me calm down. I had to keep the box door locked because tourists would come through and learn about why it was still left unused.

From the shadow of the box I watched the rehearsal occurring on the stage below. I easily identified Meg among the performers as well as some of my friends in the chorus from when I performed alongside them. Meg had recently been named Prima Ballerina. I had been making my way up to Prima Donna before I left.

I stood and leaned against the wall of the box, further hiding myself in the shadows, breathed in deeply. The box smelled of roses and something else I couldn't identify. It was pleasant, but strong. Resting my head on the wall, my elbow hit something small and sharp.

"Ow!" I exclaimed.

I didn't have time to examine my elbow before a doorway opened in the wall of the box. I let out an audible gasp and peered through. It was a crudely formed stone passage with a long set of stone steps leading down lit by torches along the walls. They had told us that all passages had been closed off. They had obviously missed this one.

Looking back at the rehearsal, I made my way down, using a torch from the wall to light my way.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Presenting chapter 2. Again, please let me know what you think, I've never written a story like this before and I appreciate feedback! Thank you!

Chapter 2

 **Paris, October 1861**

ERIK

 _Her voice is like an angel's. It can only come from heaven. I've been planning this moment ever since the first time she sang with the ballet rat by her side, little Giry, in the theatre._

* * *

I sat at my organ, planning out my next lesson with Christine. It had been two weeks since I had presented myself to her as the Angel of Music. It was genius really. She needed guidance and I needed her voice. Ever since I heard those pure, sweet notes leave her lips I knew I wanted to teach her. She had talent, but the rawness of her voice was evident. She had never had coaching. With my expertise teaching her, she would thrive. She would soar.

My attention was drawn away from my thoughts by a loud crash and swearing coming from the direction of the kitchen. Huffing, I stood up to go investigate. When I got into the kitchen, I found exactly what I hoped it wasn't. The Daroga was in a heap on the floor. There was broken glass and alcohol all over around him on the ground.

"What have you done now, you insufferable Persian?"

He scowled up at me.

"If you must know, Erik, I was reaching for a glass that was rather high and tripped, bringing everything down with me."

I rolled my eyes at the Daroga's stupidity. He stood, clothes drenched with the drink he was trying to take from my stores.

"Well, perhaps now you'll think twice before taking my vodka without asking first," I shot at him.

"Aren't you going to help me clean up?"

"Nope. You made the mess, you clean it up!"

Nadir's eyes burned holes into the back of my head as I turned on my heel and walked back into the music room to finish planning my lesson with Christine.

* * *

I sat back, lesson complete. Now I just had to endure the next three hours before I could actually meet her for the lesson. The Daroga had joined me about fifteen minutes earlier, grumbling about the unfairness I had treated him with. Now, I turned to face him. He was still wearing his drenched suit.

"Why don't you go home and change, Daroga?"

"Why? Because I need to speak to you and it can't wait."

Before I could respond, however, there was a scream and a splash coming from out at the lake.

"It will have to wait, I'm afraid. The Siren just made another catch."


End file.
